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<title>Stay Alive For Me by SilverSwordtheKilljoy</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22999672">Stay Alive For Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSwordtheKilljoy/pseuds/SilverSwordtheKilljoy'>SilverSwordtheKilljoy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Twenty One Pilots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Potentially triggering, Self-Harm, Suicide</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:22:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>375</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22999672</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSwordtheKilljoy/pseuds/SilverSwordtheKilljoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler just wanted to stop the pain. He couldn't stay here any more. But someone cared enough to help him.</p><p>**MAY CONTAIN POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING TOPICS SUCH AS SELF HARM AND SUICIDE; READ AT YOUR OWN RISK**</p><p>This fic contains some events based off of my life. I was fortunate enough to have a best friend who cared enough to save me from myself. I love you Ryan&lt;3</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stay Alive For Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvamp/gifts">cherryvamp</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey y'all! This is one of my first fics, so bear with me please. Have a great day&lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tyler sat on the couch, staring at a spot that had a juice stain from years before. <em>How could this be happening?</em> He thought. <em>It's not real, it's just a trick. </em></p><p> </p><p>He had just been told that one of the most important people in his life, his grandma, had passed away. Sure, he knew it was coming, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. It had been a while coming, a six-month stretch of sickness that tore his life apart. His mother had become increasingly distant, and never seemed to be happy anymore. </p><p> </p><p>"Tyler?" His dad said. "Are you okay?"</p><p> </p><p>Tyler slowly shook his head and crossed the room, where he hugged his dad, or at least tried to. Out of nowhere, he started crying. <em>No</em>, he thought.<em> I told myself I wouldn't cry.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>*One month time skip, brought to you by Beebo's forehead*</strong>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Tyler had just gotten home from Tennessee, the location of the funeral, a couple days earlier. He wasn't sure how many, exactly, but a few. He went to the bathroom, and noticed someone had left the medicine cabinet open. It wasn't unusual, though it annoyed him to death. He went to close it and saw a small orange container with an opening in the top. Curious, he carefully took it out and examined it closely. It was a box of razor blades. They must have been his grandpa's, but they went unused, as his grandpa got his beard trimmed at a barber shop regularly. His head instantly filled with thoughts. Some were pleading, others cautionary. Oh well. He had never been much for caution. Ignoring his self-preservation instincts, he removed one from the box. It was inside a wrapper that was fastened shut with a weak adhesive. He gently opened it, so as not to damage the wrapping. The blade was cool in his hands. He pulled up his shirt, and pushed his pants down far enough to expose part of his hip. <em>This is it</em>, he thought. <em>No going back now.</em> </p><p> </p><p>He pulled the blade along his skin, not even wincing as it began to sting. He lifted the blade and did it again and again. Small beads of blood appeared on his hip. He smiled.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <span class="u">
      <strong>
        <em>He was finally free</em>
      </strong>
    </span>
  </strike>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you or anyone you know struggle with thoughts of suicide, call 1-800-273-8255<br/>Stay strong! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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